Sunday, September 30, 2007


A photograph of an elderly couple holding a photograph of their grandparents holding a photograph of their grandparents, and so on, sits within the confines of a thin wooden frame upon the small table and beside the empty flower pot in the back room which neither of the home’s owners ever thinks to enter. The flower pot is not as young as the wooden frame, but
will be around much longer. If there were a flower inside the flowerpot, it would lean to the right for sunlight. For there is also a window in that lonely room.

-felipe martinez
September 2007

Wednesday, September 12, 2007


They, together, had the weathered look of a couple that had lost their sexuality, softly endearing. He-sweetly confident, steady, affectionate but with moderation. She-casually swivel hipped, elbows all over the place, angles angles angles. I saw him give her a flower once, something unassuming like a daisy, and even that act seemed a little drained of romance. I wanted them to be thigh high children throwing dust in a sandbox, exchanging pretty shiny things.

~Saehee Cho
Excerpt from "Re-"
Summer 2007